


Zola

by Krytella



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Ambiguity, Disturbing Themes, Dream Sex, F/M, Genderbending, M/M, Rape, Shapeshifting, South Africa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-28
Updated: 2011-06-28
Packaged: 2017-10-20 19:36:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/216381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krytella/pseuds/Krytella
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Hey,” a man’s voice calls out from behind her, and she turns. It’s Arthur. She doesn’t know him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Zola

**Author's Note:**

> Serious trigger warning, guys: explicit male/(forged)female rape.

Eames is practicing the subject’s daughter: pretty, blonde, sixteen and rich. “Zola,” he thinks, swinging his hips as he walks down the street. She would look in wonder at the world around her, dangerous streets she’s not normally let out onto, but not notice the important things. “I’m Zola, and the world exists for me.”

Zola explores the world without really looking, absorbing the layout of the town. As she walks into an alley, a prickle of danger runs down her spine. He suppresses it; out of character.

“Hey,” a man’s voice calls out from behind her, and she turns. It’s Arthur. She doesn’t know him. “You shouldn’t be here. It’s dangerous.”

He approaches and she backs away. She’s honestly apprehensive now, realizing she’s all alone with a strange man.

“What do you want?” her voice sounds small and scared, though she’s trying to be brave. She has no idea what to do.

“You shouldn’t have come here,” he says again, and she’s backed up against a wall, concrete scratching her back, feet crunching on crumpled paper. “Not in such a short skirt.”

He pushes flush against her. She’s trying to shrink back, but there’s nowhere to go, and his body is solid, pinning her. His lips brush against her ear.

“You’re very pretty, little girl,” he whispers, and she shivers, frozen. “I can’t imagine why you’d come here all alone.”

He’s rubbing his erection on her hip. She feels like she can’t breathe. Eames wants to break character, to become the man who can shove Arthur off and deck him, but he finds that he can’t.

"Please," whispers Zola.

"Please what?"

He slides his hand up her skirt, pushing her panties aside. She should fight, say no, try to run away, but she can't do that either.

"You're so wet for me," he says, and she realizes she is. She's scared, not turned on, but she’s wet. He pushes his fingers inside her roughly. It hurts, she gasps at it, but he moans hot in her ear.

"Slut," he rubs two fingers over her clit. She tries to twist away, but he's still got her pinned. "You came looking for this, didn't you?"

No, she tries to say, no, leave me alone, but nothing comes out. Tears prickle at the corners of her eyes.

"Don't try to tell me you weren't looking for this," he continues. "I know what you want."

She turns her head away.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you," he hisses, pulling back. When she keeps her cheek pressed to the cold wall, he slaps her.

"Little cunt."

She starts crying in earnest now, her face stinging with the ghost of his hand. He's looming closer again, towering over her, and his fingers are still inside her panties, rubbing at her so hard it hurts.

"You're going to come from this, aren't you?" he pushes against her again, grabbing one of her small breasts and pinching the nipple painfully. "You're gonna come for me, and then I'm gonna fuck you. There's no one coming to rescue you, little girl. Just me," he laughs. She feels something building inside her, it hurts but she has no space to pull away.

"Come on, that's it. I bet you do this for all the boys."

She doesn't, she wants to say. She's a virgin, she's good, she never lets anyone take advantage of her.

"Whore," he licks the shell of her ear and her whole body quivers. "You're going to come for me."

Suddenly, she does, heat rippling through her, sobbing into his neck. She knows she's lost, she's worthless, she's just what he says she is.

"That's my good little whore," he purrs. Then, abruptly, he's hooking his thumb in her panties, pulling them down to her knees and pushing up her skirt. He grabs her shoulders and turns her.

"Hands on the wall."

He pulls at her hips, forcing her to bend over. The air is cold on her bare skin, and she's dripping on her thighs. There's the sound of a zipper, barely audible over the noise of the city, and then something against her down there, hot and hard.

It hurts when he pushes in, hurts like something breaking. She's crying again, heaving sobs as he thrusts in and out. His fingers hurt on her hips.

"God, you feel so good. So wet for me," he's still talking. "This is what you get for looking like a whore. You like it, don't you? You knew I was following you. You knew I'd fuck you like you need."

He pauses, and the sound of his hips snapping against her ass is loud in her ears.

"Hard enough for you yet?"

She couldn't say no, isn't about to speak now.

"I like your cunt, but I think it’s a little… pedestrian, don’t you? Well. Used."

She jerks when she feels something else down there, behind where he’s pressing into her.

"If I want it tight, I'm going to have to fuck your ass, aren't I?"

His finger is wet with her juices when he pushes it in. It hurts, but not as much as his first thrust inside her.

"God, that's good. I saw you on the street and knew what you were. Knew I had to have you."

He pushes another finger in. It feels weird, still a little painful.

"You want it this way, dirty girl," he growls, pulling out of her. "Tell me you want it."

She can't run, has no escape, no idea what he'll do to her if she doesn't.

"I want it," she whispers.

"Tell me what you want. Tell me you want me to fuck your ass."

"Please, fuck my ass."

She's never been more afraid in her life. It's going to hurt. She feels him pressing against her, too big, way too big, feels the tears running down her face as he holds on to her, parting her, and forces his way in. It does hurt, it burns, she knows it would be worse if he wasn't wet from her but it still hurts.

"Jesus, you're tight. So good."

He sounds like he likes it. She hopes that means he'll finish fast, before he hurts her in a way that won't heal. He moves more slowly than before, pulling out just a little and then pushing deeper until she feels him bottom out against her.

"You want it harder? Say it."

She pants out a breath.

"Say it," snapping his hips into her, splitting her open.

"Harder," she chokes out. "Harder... I... I'm a whore. Your whore."

"That's it," he groans, speeding up. It still hurts, but it's getting better. Something in her (Eames, in a tiny voice) knows how to relax into it.

"You like this, don't you? Like being used like this?"

He bends over, reaches around with one hand to pinch her clit. It aches, her pussy aches for it.

"Please," she whispers, "please."

"You gonna come for me again, baby? Come with my cock in your ass?"

"Yes," she hears herself saying, though the no is still there in her mind. And then she is, she can feel herself clenching down around him. He grabs back onto her hips with both hands, slamming into her hard and fast, and while she's still shuddering with aftershocks she feels him coming inside her with a groan.

It does hurt when he pulls out. She slumps into the wall, and when she looks around, he's gone. She slides down onto the ground, hugging her knees and crying uncontrollably, her wetness and his come dripping out of her onto the trash that’s washed up along the edge of the alley.

She's still there when the scheduled time is up fifteen minutes later.

Eames jerks awake, practically tearing the cannula out of his arm, and runs. People call after him as he leaves, but he barely hears. In five minutes he's in the bathroom of his hotel room, stripping off his clothes. He stares in the mirror and sees Eames. Eames, thirty not sixteen, half a foot taller and twice as strong. He runs his hands over his own arms, his face.

He spends half an hour in the shower. He still feels his helplessness and Arthur's breath in his ear, Arthur's cock in the pussy he doesn't even have. He feels Zola's fear, and her shame, and it won’t wash away.

**Author's Note:**

> This was intended as a scene for a longer story but it didn't fit, so I can't take credit for the ambiguity as an intentional choice, but I decided I like it this way.
> 
> Originally posted at bina's kink fest, where there's some discussion in the comments: http://cherrybina.livejournal.com/211815.html?thread=14891879#t14891879


End file.
